The frozen heart

Chapter 2: The Frozen World

Chapter 2: The Frozen World

Anne awoke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. The room was unnervingly cold, and for a moment, she struggled to remember where she was. Her apartment? The warmth of the city? But no, something felt off—terribly off. Her blanket, usually soft and familiar, felt rough against her skin, like coarse wool, and the air held a distinct chill that cut through her.

She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the dim light, and then froze.

The world around her was not her small, cozy apartment. She was no longer curled up on her familiar couch, surrounded by the clutter of her city life. Instead, she found herself lying on a cold stone floor, surrounded by shadows, the walls around her towering and made of dark, ancient stone. The air smelled of damp earth, and the distant echo of footsteps reverberated off the walls, as if she were in some kind of dungeon or castle.

Her breath caught in her throat as she scrambled to sit up, her hands brushing against the hard, uneven surface beneath her. Panic started to rise as she glanced around the room, wide-eyed. There were no windows, only a narrow door that looked like it hadn't been opened in years. The room itself was bare—no furniture, no decorations, just cold stone and silence.

"W-what is this...?" she whispered to herself, her voice trembling.

The last thing she remembered was falling asleep with The Frozen Heart in her hands. The book, the story—it had all seemed so real in her dreams, but this? This wasn't possible. She was dreaming again, she had to be. But when she pinched herself, the sharp pain made her gasp. No, this wasn't a dream.

Anne pushed herself to her feet, her knees shaking as she tried to steady her breath. There had to be some explanation, some logical reason why she was here. She turned in a slow circle, trying to make sense of her surroundings, but there was nothing familiar, nothing comforting. Just cold and darkness.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught her eye—a shadow shifting near the doorway. Her breath hitched as she stared at the figure, barely able to make out the shape of someone standing there. Her heart raced, and she took a step back, fear tightening in her chest.

Then the figure stepped forward into the dim light, and Anne felt the blood drain from her face.

It was a man, dressed in the dark, simple clothing of a servant or worker. His face was gaunt, and his expression hard, but that wasn't what terrified her. It was the look in his eyes—a mix of recognition and suspicion. He stared at her as though she had no business being there, like she was an intruder in a place she didn't belong.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice rough.

Anne swallowed hard, her throat dry. She wanted to answer, to explain herself, but what could she say? She didn't even know where she was, much less how she had gotten here. "I...I don't know," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

The man's eyes narrowed. "You're one of the new kitchen maids, aren't you?" he muttered, more to himself than to her. "Must have gotten lost down here. Come on, the head cook's already furious. You'll want to get back to work before she finds out you've been wandering around."

Anne blinked, trying to process what he was saying. Kitchen maid? She opened her mouth to argue, to tell him he must have mistaken her for someone else, but the words wouldn't come. Something about the way he spoke, the way he dismissed her so easily, made her pause. It was as if he had decided who she was without waiting for any further explanation.

He didn't give her a chance to respond, turning his back to her and motioning for her to follow. "Hurry, before I change my mind and leave you down here."